best of you
by Lolitaxo
Summary: After being caught in a burning building, Bonnie is rushed to hospital, suffering from severe burns. When Damon visits her in hospital, how will he cope with her injuries? oneshot. bonnie/damon


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Summary: "Even scarred, mangled and marred she's still beautiful the most beautiful thing he's ever seen."

After being caught in a burning building, Bonnie is rushed to hospital, suffering from severe burns. When Damon visits her in hospital, how will he cope with her injuries? oneshot. bonnie/damon

-0-

The hospital is cold, sterile and the scent of blood and death is thick in the air.

He's trying to be strong, trying to hold on to his resolve but it's hard when everywhere he looks there's pain, tears and anguished screams. He tries to remind himself that hospitals aren't all bad- life is created here, preserved as well as ended- but all he can't think of anything other than Bonnie. She's a tangible presence in his mind, consuming him completely- mind and soul. He see's her; sweet face anxious and worried as she'd left him to make sure Elena was okay.

"I'll be right back." she'd promised, reaching up on her tippy-toes to give him a soft peck on the cheek.

That was the last time he'd seen her conscious.

"Damon!"

He looks up, heart clenching in relief when he see's Elena running towards him. Her face is sooty and tear streaked and there's a thin blanket slung over her charred clothes, but she's hear; alive and the most solid thing he has to rely on at the minute.

He stands from the shitty little plastic chair he's been sitting on for the past three hours- really, can they not afford something a little more comfortable than hard fucking plastic?- ass numb, and catches her when she throws herself at him. She's sobbing hysterically, her whole body trembling and it brakes his heart a little more, it really does.

"I'm so sorry!" she cries, burring her face into his shoulder, "I'm so, so sorry, Damon!"

He clutches her to him and inhales sharply, taking strength from the steady beat of her heart, the regular pumping of her breath against his neck. He doesn't blame her- of course he doesn't- but the fact that it's Elena he's holding so tightly in his arms instead of Bonnie sends a sharp pain through his gut and makes his eyes blur with unshed tears.

"Elena," he pulls back and looks her in the eye, voice rough,"this is not your fault."

She isn't convinced. He isn't surprised by this really. When it comes down to it, Elena's as much as a martyr as his little brother; always hoisting the blame on her shoulders even when it's not deserved.

Shaking her head violently, she pounds one tiny fist against his chest and lets out a small, child-like whimper.

"It is," she chokes out, "If I hadn't called Bonnie after that stupid fight with Stefan then she wouldn't be in there right now, Damon."

A strangled growl tears its way out of his chest. He can't think of that right now, can't even begin to think of it with Bonnie lying in a hospital bed; tubes and wires poking out of her, surrounded by doctors trying to keep her alive. He'll go insane, he really will.

"Stefan's trying to find out who started the fire now, but Damon I, I..."

She collapses. It's the only way to describe what happens next. Damon catches her when her knees buckle, cradles her gently like one would a new born child and ignores the moisture that begins to seep down his cheeks as he rubs soothing circles on her back.

"Bonnie," she croaks, "Oh God, I'm so sorry, Bon."

She falls asleep in his arms, tear-stained and disheveled with her lips shaping Bonnie's name.

Damon deposits her gently on one of the hospital chairs, situating her as comfortably as he can manage, and slings his leather jacket over her. He can't remember the last time he's felt so emotionally worn out, he really can't. Bonnie's face is branded onto his brain, taunting him with her snark and pretty little smirk.

You want me Damon? she asks sweetly, batting her lashes at him, Well, come get me then.

"I'm coming for you, little witch. I'm coming."

-0-

"Dammit, Damon, I will set your ass on fire!" she huffed, green eyes glowing indignantly.

In his opinion, it was a little late to be feeling indignant when she was stood in the middle of his living room; jeans ridding dangerously low on her hips, arms crossed over her chest to hide her exposed breasts.

Damon smirked and took a long swig of his drink, eyes languidly roaming over her scantily clad body. Oh yes, he had been right all along- the little witch was quite the naughty supernatural entity when it came to the bedroom- he still had the rapidly fading, but still visible, scratch marks down his back as proof.

"Give me my shirt back!" she snapped, clearly growing impatient with his games.

Damon feigned confusion, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Bonnie rolled her eyes at him and huffed in exasperation. She looked amazing to Damon when she was pissed off- emerald eyes spitting fire, dainty little fingers twitching with the need to clench into a fist and, god, don't even get him started on the rapid beat of her heart. His mouth was watering just thinking about it.

"I have classes in fifteen minutes, you idiot, and I can't drive home to get changed topless."

Damon shrugged and made a point of looking bored, "So stay here with me."

She seemed appalled by the notion and shook her head furiously, brown hair lashing around her shoulders.

"No way. I can't flunk school." she said, her tone of voice and impatient eye roll screaming that he was an idiot for even suggesting it. And he seriously had no idea why, but Bonnie's goody-too-shoes attitude towards life and her spotless record in school made him feel a little turned on. Excited, even. He couldn't wait to corrupt her.

She began to stalk towards him, arms still crossed firmly across her chest- much to Damon's disappointment- but, instead of shouting as he'd expected, she smiled at him. It's wasn't a nice smile, of course- sweet, sure, innocent almost, but Damon knew what it really meant. It meant that it was 'give Damon an aneurysm' time.

He gulped and silently braced himself for the pain, staring up at her with the most haughty smirk that he could muster. He knew Bonnie well enough to know that showing pain at the expense of her little parlor trick only made her feel that little bit more triumphant- and, hell, he so was not going to le her have the satisfaction.

"Last chance, baby." she sung sweetly, smirking right back at him, "My shirt back. Now. Or your already dangerously low count of brain cells gets it."

Damon shrugged again, "Go ahead. You do that and you definitely won't get this elusive shirt of yours back."

Bonnie growled low in her throat in frustration and glared at him when he failed to stifle his laughter, fire sparking in her eyes.

She looked tremendously touchable and, completely of their own accord, his hands snaked out and curled around her waist. He pulled her towards him in one quick, deft movement and Bonnie shrieked loudly, once, as she lost her footing and toppled on to his lap, breasts pressing into his chest. She put her arms around his neck to steady herself, still glaring at him through the hair that had fallen into her eyes, and pouted.

"You're impossible." she informed him, hands snaking into his dark locks. She tugged once- hard- and Damon pretended to wince.

"And you look great topless," he replied, "So I guess we've got ourselves a bit of an impasse, huh?"

"I guess." she breathed, eyes unfocused as she stared at his lips.

Damon moved closer, heart spiking in anticipation as their breath mingled- hers deliciously hot, his cool and, according to Bonnie, anyway- sweet. She was so close- just a few inches away, really- but, at the very moment that their lips would meet, Bonnie's cell phone began to whine loudly, drawing her attention away from him. Damon growled.

"Leave it." he groaned, arms tightening around her waist, "Please leave it."

But Bonnie was already pulling back, smiling apologetically as she leaned over him and grabbed her cell from the table beside the bourbon.

"Sorry, Damon. It's probably Elena wondering where I am, " she looked at the screen and nodded to herself, grimacing a little as she pressed the 'answer' button.

"Hey Elena, sorry I'm running late, I can't find my- Elena?" her voice spiked in alarm, "Elena, sweetie, what's wrong?"

Damon tried to make sense of the distorted sobs coming from the other end of the line, but all he managed to make out is the explosive- and very worrying- cry of, "Stefan!", and then more hysterical garble.

Bonnie frowned, shooting Damon a look that clearly says, Top. Now. and climbed off of his lap, murmuring soothing words to Elena as she did so. Damon complied, making his way up stairs to grab Bonnie's shirt from where he had stashed it and, when he came back down again, she had finally gotten Elena to calm down and tell her what was wrong.

"You had an argument?" she asked, sharing a relieved look with Damon- clearly, he wasn't the only one who had thought that harm had come to his baby brother- and she caught her shirt mid-air with her free hand when he throws it at her, "Just breath, Elena. I'm headed to your house now, okay? I'll be there in a minute. Okay. Okay. Yeah. Bye."

She hung up the phone, face anxious and shared a long, wordless look with Damon. They both knew that she has to go and, heck, it's not like Damon's a particularly needy kind of guy, but he had a bad feeling about this. A really bad feeling. Kind of like the ones he used to get when Elena came face to face with death on a regular basis, only not as potent because he knew that Bonnie wasn't stupid enough to get herself into that kind of situation.

At least, he hoped.

"Don't go." he said and, this time, his voice wasn't teasing- it was anxious and one hundred percent sincere.

Bonnie smiled at him softly. She seemed to realize that he was feeling worried and, of course, tried to soothe him to the best of her ability, but rather than make him feel better, it only made him feel more tightly wound.

"I have to Damon, she's in a bad way." then, seeing the look on his face, she pulled him in for a quick hug. Damon hugged her back automatically, holding her as tightly as he possibly could without hurting her, but he was stiff and couldn't seem to make himself relax. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something really bad was going to happen.

"I'll be right back." she whispered softly, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek.

The next time he saw her, she was unconscious and strapped to a gurney, unable to breath for herself which, of course, proved that he clearly had a sixth sense of sorts when it came to Bonnie Bennett.

Too bad he wasn't smart enough to actually act on it, though.

-0-

He doesn't even realize he's fallen asleep until he's being shaken awake, an unfamiliar voice calling out his name.

He bolts upright with his heart in his throat, fearing the worst when he catches sight of the doctor in front of him. The man peers at him, brown eyes concerned and quirks a thin smile when Damon raises his eyebrows in question.

"She's both stable and awake, Mr Salvatore."

He doesn't thinks he's ever heard seven sweeter words in his entire existence. Quietly, fervently he repeats them in his mind; once, twice, three times over. The man watches him patiently, face compassionate even though Damon's sure he has one-hundred and one other things to be doing right now.

"So, I can see her?" he questions eventually, sparing Elena a quick glance as he 's still sleeping, mouth hanging open slightly and Damon has a fleeting thought that his baby brother should really be here for when she wakes up. She's going to be feeling bad enough about Bonnie being in hospital as it is without having to deal with alone.

"Mr Salvatore-" the man looks conflicted. Brows furrowed, he appraises Damon with a mild gaze.

"Sir, she doesn't want to see you."

Damon gives the doctor a look, "Excuse me?"

"She requested that I forbid you to enter her room."

For a moment, he's completely knocked for six. He stares at the doctor hard, wide eyed and uncomprehending, and when the mans mouth starts to move he only lends him half an float around his mind. Sinister words like, 'extensive damage' and 'Severely burned' but he doesn't acknowledge them- not really.

No, for the most part he's just trying to get his head around Bonnie 'forbidding' him from entering her room. Why would she do such a thing? Doesn't she even care what he's been through these past few hours? Suddenly, Damon is filled with such a bright, burning anger that he only just manages to stop himself from snapping the innocent doctors neck.

How could she be so... so, inconsiderate?

"Mr Salvatore?" the doctor looks alarmed, "Sir, your face..."

Comprehension dawns bright in the humans eyes. Stumbling back from Damon, he fumbles wildly for the walky-talky that's clipped onto his belt and shoots Elena a panicked look- clearly, he's began to wonder if she's really only unconscious from exhaustion and not actually dead.

It takes Damon a second to get control over himself, but it's a second too long because, just as his vision is going back to normal- no longer tinged with red, crimson fury- and the ache in his gums are beginning to retreat, the doctor raises the small device to his mouth and whispers faintly, "Code red. Vampire on floor eleven. Possible causality. Hurry!"

They stare at each other in silence as his arm drops back to his side limply. The florescent lights above are flickering slightly, the only sound aside from the mans labored breathing and Elena's soft snore being the slight buzz coming from the lights.

Damon quirks a brow, lips twitching at the horror movie irony of the situation. He might have laughed at any other time, but this time he doesn't. No, this time he simply stares hard at the mans body as it slumps to the ground, knocked unconscious from the blow to his temple.

Damon flexes his hand, looking at the man with some regret. He doesn't muse long over his sympathy towards the doctor, but he does make sure to situate him into a more comfortable position on the marble floor and whisper a soft apology before he leaves him- heading towards room 101.

Bonnie's room.

-0-

The first thing he notices is how cold the room is- it's freezing.

His breath literally fogs when he exhales and, though he bats irritably at the frigid air and squints through the slight blur, he can't ignore the ice that's traveling up his spine, or the constriction in his gut that shrieks, mayday! mayday! something's wrong, idiot! get out of there! He ignores the feeling and emerges himself deeper into the icebox.

The room itself isn't that big- standard, really. Box sized, but lacking in the vases of sunflowers and 'get well!' cards that he'd caught a glance of in some of the other rooms, so maybe a little bigger than most. But, Damon's willing to bet that most of the rooms don't have sharp, pointed icicles hanging from the ceiling and slippery frost decorating the floor beneath peoples feet.

"What the heck?" he whispers softly, reaching up to gingerly touch one of the icicles. It's undeniably solid beneath his fingertips, cold to the touch, and when he applies enough pressure it breaks in his hands.

One hundred percent real.

He flinches back, dropping the sharp edge to the floor. It smashes when it hits the floor, breaks into a thousand tiny little shards of ice and, right in front of his eyes, the frosted ground appears to rise up and swallow the small shards into itself.

Damon blinks, mouth working silently in amazement and leans down to examine the ground. Where the shards had disappeared lies a particularly shiny patch of smooth ice, which he knows instinctively has been melded into the ground. Been made a part of the icy wonderland. He knows, somehow, that this is Bonnie's doing. Logically, who else could it have been?

At the though of her, Damon's head snaps towards the barely visible outline of the hospital bed and, unthinking about anything other than Bonnie laid out in a coffin with blue lips and stiff limbs, he lifts himself from the floor and rushes towards the ghostly object.

What looks like some sort of snowy canopy hangs from the ceiling and drifts down in front of the bed.

Hesitantly, Damon reaches out to touch the odd thing and, frowning in perplexity, realizes that it is, in fact, a vine. Multiple vines, all growing down from the ceiling to encase the bed. He rubs it against his fingers, trying to feel the texture, and realizes that the white coating is snow. Snow covered vines.

Just what the heck is Bonnie playing at? Carefully, he pushes the vine out of his way and climbs onto the bed.

And there she is: back turned to him, clearly asleep if the noisy, but consistent, whirring of her labored breathing indicates. But- alive! And able to breath and survive without the help of a machine! Overcome with joy, he doesn't think twice to reach over and gently shake Bonnie awake.

Now, Damon isn't dense. After one hundred and fifty odd years of life, he's learned a thing or two, gained a couple of dozen diploma's- heck, he even contributed to searching for a cure to cancer. He's not a genius, not by any means, but he likes to think that he's not the stupidest guy around- and, you know, not to brag or anything but he generally prides himself on being pretty darn observant, too.

So, that's why he's so shocked that he's as unprepared as he is for the sight of his girlfriend. When she turns- slowly, carefully, as though movement hurts her- the doctors words which he had previously tuned out come back with a vengeance.

Extensive damage, the voice whispers, severely burned.

Slowly, Damon's gaze travels from her visible, angry red scalp, over the ragged, melted parts of her features, and around the burnt, blackened flesh of her neck. Green eyes observe him patiently in silence, waiting. Always waiting. Eventually, after what feels like hours, but in reality is probably only a few seconds, Damon manages to look her in the eyes.

And, the very moment he does, all of the shocked, horrified feelings floating through his body somehow just... dispatch. Looking into Bonnie's eyes- possibly the only part of her that has remained unscathed, entirely her own- he somehow forgets all about the disfigurements.

She's Bonnie. She's alive. She's his.

The silence in the room remains undisturbed. Mostly, because Damon can't really think of what it was he wanted to say.

Wasn't he angry at her, before? Didn't he want to shout at her, to scream obscenities and accuse her of being inconsiderate?

If so, all feelings of resentment towards her have long since passed, leaving him tongue tied and awkward in their wake. In the end, it's Bonnie who breaks the silence.

"I told the doctor I didn't want you in here." she rasps, tripping over some of the words.

Her voice is hoarse and raw and she winces after she says it. At least, he thinks she does. Her face is so unfamiliar that she could have simply twitching for all he knows. The though makes his heart heavy.

Damon shakes his head, pained. "And you really though that would keep me away? Come on, Bonnie. It's me."

He wants to say more, but when he opens his mouth no words come out. Frustrated, crestfallen, tired, he sits back on his heels and runs a hand through his hair, trying desperately to formulate his ragged emotions into words.

He's well aware that he hasn't got much time left- whoever the doctor communicated is coming for him, he knows this, but somehow none of that really seems to matter. Let them come for him- let them drive a stake through his heart. Death would almost certainly be better than living with the knowledge that he had failed the little witch.

Bonnie watches him the whole time, not once saying a word.

It isn't until he looks back at her that he realizes why she's so quiet- she's crying. Those magnificent emerald eyes of hers are swimming with tears, some breaking through and seeping down her ruined cheek, others catching in what's left of her singed lashes. Damon lets out a small sound of surprise and, careful not to hurt her, leans forward and brushes the tears from her cheeks. Bonnie's eyes widen.

"What are you doing?" she whispers.

Damon doesn't answer until her cheeks are completely dry, "What does it look like?" he replies, voice just as soft as hers.

She blinks at him and begins to shuffle under the sheets. It isn't until she begins to turn her back to him that he realizes what she's doing- turning away from him.

"Bonnie, what are you doing?"

His only response is the slight stiffening of her back beneath the flimsy hospital issued nightgown. The room begins to grow colder, to the point were Damon actually feels himself beginning to shiver. Bonnie doesn't turn back around.

They sit like that for awhile- maybe five minutes- Damon confused, cold and miserable, Bonnie stoic and unreachable.

Eventually, the sound of police sirens rouse him from his stupor and he groans, jumping off the bed, careful not to jostle Bonnie. He paces carefully across the slippery floor until he's at the other side of the bed- with Bonnie facing him again. Her eyes are wide open and apparently annoyed when she sees him, but he notices that the thin, cotton pillow beneath her head is soaked through with tears.

"What is wrong with you?" he demands, but his voice breaks on the third word and he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the tear-stained pillow.

"What's wrong with me?"

Bonnie gargles. It might have been intended as a laugh, but it comes out mangled and distorted. Damon winces.

"I'm sorry, but are you blind or just stupid?" Her eyes are hard, angry and unrelenting. More than that, there's an utter bitterness about her that had never been there before.

"I'm hideous!" she cries, glaring up at him, "I'm burnt and disgusting and... and horrible! And you're just stood there, acting as if nothing's wrong!"

Tears spring into her eyes once more, but this time Damon isn't sure if they're tears of despair or just down right fury. Probably both, he decides, suppressing a shiver as the temperature plummets even further.

Bonnie appears immune to the chill- in fact, she seems completely comfortable with it. That confuses him.

From the very moment that he'd met her, Damon had decided that fire was the very thing that defined Bonnie Bennett. The spark in her eyes, the flames in her blood, the warmth of her embraces- he was consumed with fire every time he was near her. But this? This glacier of a room? It isn't Bonnie. In fact, it's the complete opposite of everything he has ever associated her with.

He stares down at her, only distantly aware of the faint crashes of doors being flung open and the answering shriek of alarm from the patients, and thinks that, even scarred, mangled and marred, she's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

But how does he show her that?

"Disgusting?" he crouches down, so that they're face to face, and shakes his head in disbelief, "Hideous? Witch, I think the only stupid one here is you." He reaches across to touch her face in a touch that's so feather-light, he wonders if she can feel it at all.

"I don't think you understand the full extent of what you did today, Bonnie. You ran into a burning building to save your best friends life, apparently not caring about the consequences and, you know what? Elena's alive because of you and only you. That's not the actions of an ugly person, Judgey. A damn idiot maybe, but that's neither here nor there right now."

She shakes her head, lip curling, "Oh, come off it, Damon! You, of all the people, aren't actually going to try and feed me all of that 'inner beauty' bullshit, are you?"

The crashing is becoming closer, more frequent, and it makes Damon impatient.

Rolling his eyes, he snaps at her, "If it's your looks your worried about, witch, you can be cured with a sip of my blood."

He yanks his sleeve back and shows it to her, "I'm just trying to tell you that, whatever you might think about yourself, you're as beautiful to me now as you were this morning."

He doesn't wait for a response-doesn't have time to, really- but he does hear Bonnie's sharp cry of alarm of as he bites viciously into his own arm. She doesn't protest when he presses his arm against her mouth, letting his blood seep into her system.

Silently, he watches as the burns disappear, the melted flesh knits itself back together, and the charred skin is melded back into perfection. Whatever is left of the feathery down on her scalp begins to grow, to lengthen, to thicken and, faster than most people would be able to comprehend, there is nothing left to indicate that Bonnie was ever in the ICU unit earlier on in the day.

When he's sure that she's had her fill, he gently pries her mouth from the wound and wipes the smeared blood from her lips with his thumb. Bonnie's eyes tear again from the tenderness of the motion, and she opens her mouth to say something, but Damon hushes her. The crashing has become close enough that he's certain that they're in the room next to Bonnie's.

Glancing around the room, he grabs Bonnie's hand and, before she can protest, yanks her up into his arms.

"Damon!" she cries, clearly alarmed, "What the hell is going on?"

"One of the doctors figured out that I'm a vampire." he grimaces, "He called in reinforcements."

Bonnie's eyes widen in understanding and, curling one arm around his neck, she points towards the window, "That's the only way out."

Damon nods, pausing only to brush a brief kiss on both of her eyelids, "Close your eyes. I know you're afraid heights."

Perhaps the only thing sweeter than the smile she gives him then is how, at the very moment he's perched on the window with Bonnie in his arms, the door crashes open and people flood in. They look momentarily startled by the ice encased room, some slipping on the frost, others simply staring in awe, but when the notice him they all seem to snap out of it and he can hear the distinct clink of gun being loaded. Wooden bullets, no doubt. Somebody yells, "Shoot!"

Damon winks in their general direction and blows them a one handed kiss, right before he drops out of the window.

And promptly disappears from Mystic Falls, never to be seen again.

At least, not in their lifetime.

-0-

He asks Bonnie about the hospital room when they're on the plane, headed for a visit to Italy.

"Ice?" she looks blank, "I don't remember any ice."

She looks so normal now, so healthy, that it's not hard to imagine that the ice room and her previously damaged state was all a dream. He knows it wasn't though- he can still feel the chill of the broken icicle in his hands, can recall the shards being swallowed into the floor.

It's not really something you can forget.

"It must have been some sort of defense mechanism." she muses, absently twiddling with his day light ring as she stares into space, "Before you woke me up, I was dreaming about the fire. I guess I could have projected my anxiety into the room, molded it into somewhere I would feel safe." she shrugs, intertwining their fingers, "I honestly don't know, Damon."

He nods, "Stefan and Elena said that they would meet us in Italy in a few weeks." He rolls his eyes, "No doubt they're still making up after that stupid fight."

Bonnie laughs, "Probably. You know what they're like." her smile fades all of a sudden, and Damon can feel her grip on him tightening, "Did... Did Stefan manage to find the person who started the fire?"

He can feel his gums beginning to ache at the mere mention of the fire starter.

"No. He assumes it was one of the many people out to get Elena. Maybe somebody mistook her for Katherine." he sighs, running his free hand through his hair, "I don't know, Bon. But I swear, I will find them and make them suffer. I give you my word."

She smiles sweetly, but doesn't look away quick enough for him to miss the tears sparkling in her eyes.

"Thank you." she whispers. Then, in more normal tones adds, "But I still feel bad about leaving Caroline."

Damon snorts, lifting their joined hands and pressing the back of hers against his lips.

"Don't. She has Tyler- or, is it Klaus these days? I can never really tell with Caroline."

"She's with Tyler," Bonnie defends, slapping him lightly on the chest, "And you can't blame her for being flattered by Klaus' advances."

"Oh, yeah. Drawing ponies? Totally the way to a girls heart."

Bonnie laughs again and the sound is so sweet, such a pleasure to hear, that he finds himself joining in. Laughing at her laughter. People on the plane shift in their seats, sending them odd looks, but neither really care. Damon actually makes a point of ignoring them as he pulls Bonnie in for a kiss. And, in that moment, with her so close to him and the future looking so bright? He lets himself do something he hasn't done for years;

Damon lets himself hope.

a/n: Just a little oneshot to try and resolve my bamon feels at the minute. Hope you enjoyed!

review please!

-lolita


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